S-lipjileliieilt  to 
234 
■>r/:yAL  OF  HORTICULTURE  AND  COTTAGE  GARDENER. 
March  13,  1902. 
“  During  this  period,  while  in  the  discharge  of  my  duties, 
I  frequently  came  into  contact  with  some  contributors  of  the 
Journal  whose  names  in  the  sphere  of  horticultural  literature 
will  long  be  memorial.  There  was  Robert  Fish,  who  struck  me 
as  being  not  only  a  practical  writer,  but  a  thoroughly  honest  man. 
Then  again,  there  was  ‘Wiltshire  Rector,’  who  entertained  me 
with  pleasant  conversation  about  ins  church,  his  parish,  and 
kindred  matters,  on  which  he  wrote  so  charmingly  in  our  pages. 
I  had  also  business  connections  with  Mr.  Woodbury,  the  ‘  Devon¬ 
shire  Bee-keeper,’  who  contributed  then  to  the  Journal ;  and  good 
old  Donald  Beaton  I  remember  well.  His  style  was  quite 
peculiar,  and  I  recall  how'  he  ‘  wrote  up  ’  the  Spergula  pilifera, 
which  I  never  see  mentioned  now.”  [Change  still  doth  reign, 
Mr.  Edwards;  all  is  change.  The  beautiful  Spergula  pilifera 
ever  and  anon  appears  in  these  pages,  but,  like  “  The  Cottage 
Gardener,”  it  changed  names,  and  now  the  botanists  call  it 
Sagina  subulata. — Ed.]  “  The  oldest  surviving  writer  of  the 
galaxy  of  those  days  is  Mr.  Robert  Fenn,  whose  signature  of 
‘  Upwards  and  Onwards  ’  was  very  familiar  to  me.  His  recent 
sparse  contributions  show  that  time  still  toils  after  him  in  vain. 
Years  have  apparently  made  no  difference  in  his  handwriting, 
or  in  his  fine,  nervous,  vigorous  style,  which  are  just  the  same 
as  they  were  forty  years  ago. 
“  During  the  time  the  paper  was  at  Winchester  it  was  super¬ 
vised  by  Mr.  G.  W.  Johnson,  the  original  projector  of  it  in  1848. 
He  resided  there,  and  discharged  the  functions  of  country 
editor,  whilst  Dr.  Hogg  performed  those  of  town  editor,  and 
froni  time  to  time  visited  Winchester  for  the  purposes  of  con¬ 
sulting  with  his  partner.  When  we  removed  to  London  Mr. 
Johnson  came  up,  and  made  his  home  in  the  Metropolis.  The 
association  of  Mr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Hogg  lasted  for  close  upon 
twenty  years  from  the  time  of  our  ari'ival  in  London,  and  only 
ended  in  1879,  when  failing  intellectual  powers  necessitated  the 
retirement  of  the  elder  partner.  He,  however,  continued  to 
enjoy  fair  physical  health  till  about  the  time  of  his  decease  in 
the  year  1886. 
“  It  wms  shortly  after  this  that  I  recollect  the  institution 
of  the  first  sub-editor,  Charles  Norval  Thompson.  He  was  a 
son  of  the  well-known  superintendent  of  the  Royal  Horticultural 
Society’s  garden  at  Chiswick,  and  author  of  ‘  Thompson’s 
Gardener’s  Assistant.’  He  was  well  described  in  Dickens’s 
character  of  Tom  Pinch,  having  the  same  genial  and  hearty  dis¬ 
position.  His  unexjDected  decease  while  still  in  the  prime  of 
life  on  December  23,  1874,  cast  a  gloom  over  iis  all. 
“  Looking  back  on  those  past  forty  years,  what  wonderful 
changes  we  note.  Let  anyone  take  down  the  volumes  of  ‘  The 
Cottage  Gardener  ’  of,  say,  1857  or  1858,  and  compare  them  with 
‘The  Journal  of  Horticultiire  ’  of  the  present  day.  How  con¬ 
spicuous  is  the  clifference’ — both  in  the  size  and  number  of  pages, 
in  the  illustrations  and  the  general  aspect.  These  mark  the 
enormous  advance  which  has  taken  place,  not  perhaps  in  the 
character  of  the  literature  as  in  the  external  matters  and 
technique.  At  the  time  to  which  I  have  alluded  there  were 
only  two  gardening  papers  in  existence,  namely,  ‘  The  Gardeners’ 
Chronicle  ’  and  ‘  The  Cottage  Gardener.’  But  in  1861  Mr.  Shirley 
Hibberd  commenced  his  enterprise,  by  publishing  as  a  weekly 
periodical  ‘  The  Gardener’s  Magazine.’  Some  ten  years  later 
appeared  ‘  The  Garden,’  which  was  founded  by  Mr.  Wrilliam 
Robinson,  a  former  contributor  to  the  columns  of  the  Journal. 
Since  then  there  has  blossomed  a  host  of  juvenile  horticultural 
periodicals  whose  nanies  are  past  my  power  to  recollect. 
“  And  now  perniit  me  one  word  more.  Reviewing  the  past 
forty-three  years  since  my  connection  with  the  Journal,  as  one 
scene  after  another  passes  before  me  like  a  panorama,  it  seems  as 
though  a  Power  were  directing  my  steps.  I  see  rising  before 
me  one  event  after  another,  very  trifling,  but  they  led  to  impor¬ 
tant  results,  as  many  trifling  events  do.  Some  people  would 
call  them  remarkable  coincidences  ;  I  call  them  remarkable 
providences.  Yes,  that  Power  has  protected  me,  guided  me,  and 
provided  for  me  and  mine,  and  His  ijroniise  is  that  He  will  do 
so  to  the  end.  ‘  Even  to  your  old  age  I  am  He,  and  even  to 
your  hoar  hairs  will  I  carry  you.’ 
I  liave  been  uphelil  till  now  ; 
Who  con  il  hold  me  up  but  Thou  ? 
“  How  appropriate  are  Cardinal  Newman’s  lines  :  — 
So  long  Thy  power  hath  blest  me,  sure  it  still 
Will  lead  me  on 
O’er  moor  and  fen,  o’er  crag  and  t'  rrent,  till 
The  night  is  gone  ; 
And  in  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since  and  lost  awhile. 
^  And  now — ‘  A  few’  more  years  shall  roll  ’ — perhaps  very  few — 
A  few  more  years  shall  roll 
A  few  more  seasons  come, 
and  it  will  be  inv  turn  to  pass  tlirough  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death,  but  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  One  whom  I  have  loved 
and  served  will  be  with  me,  and  I  shall  be  reunited  to  those 
dear  ones  wdio  have  gone  before,  and  to  the  ‘  commanding  officer.’ 
May  w'e  all  meet  around  that  Throne  where  sorrow  and  sighing 
shall  flee  away,  and  partings  be  known  no  more.” 
Some  Diolleiies  of  Plant  Names. 
By  J.  R.  S.  Clifford. 
UMEROIIS  are  the  strange  or  comical  names  which  have 
been  given  to  wild  and  garden  flowers,  often  subjects 
of  w’onderment  to  those  who  have  not  heard  them 
explained.  Some,  indeed,  are  perplexing,  and  may 
have  more  than  one  meaning,  if  we  investigate  them.  According 
to  the  poet  Milton,  Eve  was  the  first  individual  who  gave  names 
to  plants,  and  even  made  a  classification  of  those  of  Paradise  into 
tribes.  During  the  Middle  Ages  the  monks  w’ere  responsible  for 
some  plant  names,  plenty  suggested  by  the  Virgin  Ma^,  but 
few,  apparently,  b.y  Eve.  True,  there  is  one  of  the  Saxifrages, 
S.  hypnoides,  which  has  mossy  clumps  and  small  white  blooms, 
that  yet  bears  the  name  of  Eve’s  Cushion.  To  more  than  one  of 
the  Thrifts,  certainly  to  our  familiar  Armeria  vulgaris,  belongs 
the  name  of  “  Cushion,”  which  may  also  possibly  have  been  linked 
with  Eve.  The  spreading  tufts  make  it  appropriate.  “  Our  Lady,” 
or  “  Lady  ”  simply  figure  in  many  plant  names.  .  Some  think  a 
fewr  of  the  latter  may  allude  to  Eve,  who  was  much  more  spoken 
of  by  our  ancestors  than  she  is  at  the  present  time,  and  they 
would  doubtless  regard  her  as  the  first  lady. 
The  North  Kent  cliildren,  amongst  whom  I  live,  are  no  great 
observers  of  Nature  generally,  nor  of  plants,  specially,  but  most 
will  readily  recognise  the  inconspicuous  Shepherd’s  Purse,  and 
call  it  “  Pick  Your  Mother’s  Pocket.”  The  names  connect,  but 
shepherds  did  not ,  carry  cash  usually,  and  the  pod  in  shape 
resembled  his  bag  or  wallet  which  held  food  for  the  day,  I  think. 
Juvenile  morality  associates  a  purse  or  pocket  with  the  idea  of 
stealing  something  from  it,  not  unfrequently.  But  the  plant  has 
another  significance  in  some  western  districts.  A  child  will  hold 
out  on  its  palm  one  of  the  pods,  and,  asking  a  companion  to  strike 
it,  exclaim :  “  There,  you’ve  broken  your  mother’s  heart.”  A 
byegone  fancy  has  likened  its  form  to  that  of  the  important 
organ.  Belonging  to  the  same  tribe,  larger,  and  more  pungent, 
is  the  Hedge  Garlic,  also  called  Jack-by-the-Hedge.  (One  book 
upon  plants  I  came  upon  gave  as  a  name  Robin-run-the-Hedge. 
This  belongs  rather  to  some  species  of  Bedstraw,  or  Galium.) 
But  why  should  it  be  Jack?  when  as  a  prefix  to  various  objects 
the  word  is  expressive  of  size,  and  must  refer  here  to  the  large¬ 
ness  of  the  plant  leaves.  We  have  more  names  for  it — Treacle 
Mustard,  too,  and  Sauce  Alone,  descriptive  of  old  uses.  The 
first  tells  of  its  combination  in  a  mixture  known  as  treacle ;  an 
electuary,  we  say  now.  The  second  praises  it  as  a  relish.  We 
would  consider  it  a  .sauce  best  left  alone.  In  this  month  people 
looked  out  for  the  young  plants,  as  indicating  the  approach  of 
spring,  and  also  for  the  early  growth  of  the  Lady’s  Smock  orCuckoo 
Flower,  though  this  would  not  open  till  the  time  when  the  bird 
arrives  from  abroad.  It  is  Gowky  in  Devonsliire,  to  the  puzzling 
of  visitors  ignorant  that  such  is  the  local  name  for  tlxe  cuckoo. 
Rather  a  funny  idea  is  it  of  some  people  that  Cardamine  pratensis 
was  Lady’s  Smock,  because  it  grew  upon  meadows  where  under¬ 
garments  were  laid  to  bleach.  Probably,  it  was  a  comparison 
suggested  by  the  silvery  white  or  pale  like  flowers,  for  the 
familiar  Stitchwort  of  roadsides  was  called  White  Petticoat. 
Numerous,  often  amusing,  are  the  plant  names  which  connect 
with  articles  of  attire  or  of  the  toilet.  Sometimes  the  reason  is 
not  obvious.  Bell-like  flowers  hint  a  resemblance  to  various 
things;  so  does  the  garden  Turk’s-cap  Lily  and  others  of  that 
tribe.  The  Campanulas,  Convolvuluses,  the  common  Cowslip, 
and  the  much  debated  Foxglove — Fairies  or  Foxes.  This  plant 
might  suggest  a  glove,  or  the  finger  of  one.  Probably  the  oldest 
were  like  socks,  and  had  no  fingers.  Then  it  was  the  Witches’ 
Thimble,  too,  and  in  some  counties  the  plant  has  still  the  odd 
name  of  Cowslop.  Yet  another  name  of  the  West  is  Poppy. 
Boys  blow  into  a  partly  expanded  Foxglove  flower,  and  with  a 
blow  make  it  prodnee  a  pop.  One  of  the  CamiDanulas  was  the 
Witch’s  Cap,  and  a  Convolvulus  bore  the  title  of  Old  Man’s  Cap. 
But  the  names  mostly  favoxir  feniinine  articles,  showing  that 
our  forefathers  inclined  to  associate  women  witli  plants.  There 
is  one  or  more  species  of  Campion,  however,  called  Bachelor’s 
Button ;  and  the  Ribbon  Grass  of  our  gardens  is  the  Gardener’s 
Garters.  But  Robin  or  Robert  is  part  of  the  name  of  several 
plants,  and  evidently  was  a  very  frequent  man’s  name  centuries 
ago.  If  it  had  any  special  meaning  applied  to  a  plant  it  might 
denote  activity  or  vigour.  One  of  our  Crowfoots  (Ranunculus 
arvensis)  has  curious  twisted  carpels,  which  somebody  called 
Satan’s  Comb  ;  and  someone  else  his  Chariot  Wheels,  supposing 
that  his  Infernal  Majesty  found  a  conveyance  useful  at  times. 
Mexico  produces  a  splendid  Ipomsea,  with  azure  blossoms 
several  inches  across,  growing  so  close  as  to  hide  the  leaves. 
This  is  Lady’s  Mantle  ;  and  another  plant  so  called  is  our  native 
AlcHemilla,  of  three  species.  There  the  name  was  given  on 
account  of  the  way  in  which  the  leaves  are  plaited  before 
expansion.  Some  species  of  Genista,  from  the  shape  of  its  pods, 
w'as  called  the  Ladies’  Slipper,  and  when  it  first  came  to  England 
some  gave  the  Fuchsia  the  name  of  Ladies’  Eardrop,  because  of 
